


Nights on the Havoc Marauder

by Timely_Storms



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cooking, Family Fluff, Found Family, He's so skinny, No Beta We Die Like Clones, someone feed echo please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timely_Storms/pseuds/Timely_Storms
Summary: Echo isn't sure where his place is among the bad batch yet. he'll need some convincing to know he's actually welcome.
Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & CT-21-0408 | Echo, Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	Nights on the Havoc Marauder

**Author's Note:**

> listen ive been screaming about the bad batch trailer for DAYS.

Nights on the _Havoc Marauder_ were quiet.

Tech spent most nights learning about new languages, new cultures, any information the holonet would provide. He would rarely sit alone as he did so, usually back to a back with Crosshair as he typed away at his datapad.

Crosshair usually oiled his rifle, or played sabaac with Hunter and Wrecker. He was quiet, and liked to chew on toothpicks, scowling at anyone who dared to look in his direction. Echo wasn’t sure where he got the toothpicks.

Hunter would lay in the hammock strung up between bunks, either reading a datapad or talking to one of the batchers. He’d stretch his arms over his head and finally relax, trying to let the tension seep out of his shoulders. Echo wasn’t sure if it helped, or if it was a moral thing—If Hunter seemed okay the others felt at ease—but it seemed to work.

Wrecker would pick up anything and everything, and practically bench-press it. More than once Echo had been caught off guard and lifted straight off his feet, Hunter quickly reminding Wrecker that Echo was still _breakable._ Wrecker also liked to lay on the floor and throw things at the ceiling, sometimes wrangling one of his brothers to lay with him.

Echo didn’t know where is place was yet, among the bad batch. He spent most nights alone, in the cockpit, either staring at the hyperspace trails in the viewport or on comms with Rex. He talked to Rex, a lot. Rex seemed to miss him, but also seemed busy, almost off-put by something happening on the other side of the comms. He told Echo not to be worried.

Echo played sabaac with the rest of the bad batch, when they asked him to, but he was mostly quiet among his brothers, trying not to seem intrusive.

He noticed though, the fondness seeping in as the bad batch grew to like him.

They were nice to him, he noticed that Crosshair never picked at him like he did to the other batchers, but he couldn’t yet tell if it was because he liked Echo of if it was because he _didn’t._

Tech liked Echo, he had told him so. He liked that Echo remembered things, and he enjoyed his company.

Wrecker seemed afraid to break Echo, but still seemed to like him. He was always seeking approval from his brothers, which Echo understood.

Hunter, Echo was sure about yet. He seemed to worry about him an awful lot, which Echo saw as Hunter just trying to protect Echo, like any leader would.

Echos head was full of thoughts as he stripped his armor.

“Echo, hey,” Hunter caught his arm as was was heading to his bunk. Echo rarely slept, each night filled with horrible nightmares of the stasis chamber, of Fives. “you’re eating enough, yeah?”

Echo paused. Eating was still hard. He got full rather quickly and found it hard to convince himself to do so, even if he constantly felt hungry.

“I guess,” Echo shrugged. “s’ hard, you know?”

“Ration bars are pretty bland. I get it.” Hunter didn’t push any further. “Just try to eat a bit more, okay? Tired of seeing you so skinny.” He smiled and ran his hand over the groove of Echos ribs, still protruding quite noticeably from his blacks.

“Yeah,” Echo smiled. “I’ll try.”

-

The next night, Echo walked into the small kitchen on the ship. Rations were a daily food, a small compact block of calories and nutrients. They tasted pretty bland, and were difficult for Echo to stomach. Instead of finding an empty kitchen however, as he usually did, Echo found the other four batchers.

“We’re trying to cook,” Hunter explained.

“It isn’t going well—” Crosshair translated.

“You want to help?”

A grin spread across Echos face.

“Yeah.”

Tech and Wrecker turned out to be the perfect team, making something stew-like in a large pot that smelled absolutely better than a ration bar.

Echo and Crosshair set the “table”, which was really the sabaac table, filling glasses with nutrient-protein powder and water, Crosshair silently putting a spoonful extra into Echos mug.

Hunter made a bread of some kind, a strange green powder that almost tripled in size when he added water to it. It was mesmerizing to watch.

The all talked and bantered and _danced,_ even, Hunter pulling out a stringed instrument and playing a faster, more swingy version of _Vod An,_ Crosshair refusing to dance, but watching with a grin where he leaned against the counter.

Echo got tired after dancing, his energy was still pretty low, so he took a spot next to Crosshair as Hunter and Tech played _horrible_ sounding music, Tech playing a recording of a song and Hunter trying to match pitch. Echo and Crosshair could only laugh, Crosshair throwing his arm over his brother’s shoulder.

This was family, Echo thought.

When they sat down to eat, they continued to talk, joking about growing up on Kamino and poking fun at the longnecks(ignoring the trauma they all went through, avoiding conversations about 99).

The food was _amazing,_ so much better than anything any of them had eaten thus far, The batchers grinning widely when Echo took a bite and _smiled._

When Echo wasn’t looking, Crosshair put an extra ladle-full of the stew into Echos bowl, Hunter smiling at him.

Echo felt welcome, for the first time since being with the bad batch.

No; he thought; He was _apart_ of the bad batch. After spending so long in the stasis chamber, feeling lost and ungrounded,

Echo was home.


End file.
